


It’s Fucking Huge

by TAFKAmayle



Series: Probably [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Cliche, M/M, Pretty tame tbh, Prostitution, Roughness, Size Queen Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAmayle/pseuds/TAFKAmayle
Summary: Jaskier is a prostitute, Geralt is a paying customer. Nothing else. ProbablyDedicated to my patron saints for encouraging me to pursue The Witcher fandom. Especially YD who has been very encouraging. Thank you all for your continued support. ❤️(Also if you think this is bad: you’re right! It’s my first Witcher fic and I’m just feeling out how I want to write the characters. Please be sure to leave your criticisms and suggestions in the comments!)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Probably [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181378
Comments: 8
Kudos: 165





	It’s Fucking Huge

Jaskier was practically ice, frozen in surprise,  when the white haired man entered his room. No, not man, _witcher._ Well, they were close to the same. Close, but Jaskier worried if witchers were offended by being called men since they were supposedly so much better. Point was, he knew nothing and his brain was scrambling to come up with something to say. Scrambling to decide if pulling the sheet over his naked crotch was the right move or the wrong one.

The Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia frowned at him, his golden yellow eyes dropping to Jaskier’s crotch. He looked back at the door, frown deepening. _Ah._

“You’re in the wrong room,” Jaskier guessed, utterly amazed he got it out without a single warble, “You’re probably looking for Lavender. She’s across the hall.”

The witcher regarded him blankly for a moment before he removed the pack on his back, setting it against the wall. _Oh dear, that doesn’t seem good._ The witcher undid the buckles on his armor as he moved toward Jaskier who really had no alternative but to let this play out. The witcher’s armor dropped as he stood next to the bed and Jaskier started to reach for his trousers.

“Lay back,” the witcher ordered, voice deep and gruff.

Jaskier obeyed, spreading his legs for him as heat pulsed in his blood. 

“I suppose being a witcher means you have to be flexible to plans changing,” he chuckled a bit nervously.

The witcher gripped Jaskier’s thighs and yanked him to the edge of the bed. Jaskier squeaked a bit in surprise and he could not have sounded more like a frightened child if he’d tried. The witcher either didn’t notice or didn’t care as his rough fingers rubbed over Jaskier’s asshole, checking to see if he was capable of taking his cock. He frowned. Apparently Jaskier wasn’t loose enough for his liking.

“Where is your oil?” He questioned.

Jaskier pointed at the table by the bed. The witcher left him to retrieve the little glass vial and Jaskier felt cold for some reason. The reason being he was nervous. He was right on the edge of being terrified. But something about the witcher was keeping him from being so. Though he radiated a dangerous aura, he seemed more uninterested than anything else. Like a wolf waiting to become hungry enough to strike. So as long as he wasn’t hungry, Jaskier was safe. _Probably._

The witcher returned to his position in front of Jaskier who moved to take the glass bottle from him. He jerked it out of reach.

“Lay back down,” he grunted, “Let me do this.”

“Well, alright then,” Jaskier agreed, laying back, “If you want to do all the work, have at it, I suppose.”

The witcher’s lips twitched like he might smile, but the smile never fully spread. Still, it encouraged Jaskier’s thoughts on the wolf waiting to strike. If he was vaguely amused by Jaskier, then he had no desire to devour him. _Probably._ Jaskier jolted a bit as the Witcher’s fingers swiped oil over his asshole. 

“Too cold?” The witcher prompted.

“No, I was just not paying attention,” Jaskier admitted.

The witcher snorted as he pressed two of his calloused fingers into Jaskier easily, sending a shudder through him. 

“What is your name?” He asked.

“Um, Jaskier,” Jaskier answered.

_Why did I tell him the truth?_ The witcher hummed, his golden eyes regarding him thoughtfully. _Because he can tell when I’m lying._

“What’s yours?” Jaskier returned.

“You know my name,” the witcher grumbled, looking back down where his fingers were moving in and out of Jaskier.

He seemed displeased by the question.

“Ah, l-let me rephrase,” Jaskier hastily corrected, “What would you like me to call you?”

A third thick finger pressed in him and he groaned, distracted from his question.

“You may call me Geralt,” the witcher answered.

“R-Right, Geralt, y-you got it,” Jaskier huffed.

He was struggling to focus enough to banter, his cock’s interest at the firm but careful nature of the witcher quickly building up. Half an idea formed in Jaskier’s imagination about the witcher holding him down while he took and gave pleasure as he pleased. Another partial idea floated by that pointed out how large the witcher’s cock had to be if three of his fingers felt like _this_ and he hadn’t finished preparing him yet.

Jaskier groaned, head pressing back and eyes squeezing closed. He gripped at the sheet below him as his back arched. More. He wanted more. _Now._

“F-Fuck me!” He cried, “I-I need you t-to fuck me!”

Geralt’s fingers pulled away and he yanked his trousers open. Jaskier lifted on his elbows to watch him take his cock out. _Oh god, it’s fucking huge._ Were all witchers better than men in this regard too? Geralt smeared oil over his cock and Jaskier’s throat was tight and dry. 

Geralt gripped Jaskier’s hip in one hand and his cock in the other as he pressed it up against Jaskier’s hole. Jaskier hissed as it pushed inside, tensing. _My impatience is coming back to fuck me again._ But it wasn’t splitting him and his own cock was still hard so he puffed out a calming breath and relaxed, nodding for Geralt to keep going. He dropped back to the bed, huffing breathlessly and Geralt leaned over him as he slid in.

“How are you doing, little flower?” He questioned, his hand rubbing Jaskier’s hip.

“I’m so full,” Jaskier said the first thing that came to his mind.

“That is not what I asked,” Geralt pointed out.

Jaskier laughed breathlessly and gripped at Geralt’s firm shoulders, trying to tug him down closer. Geralt allowed it, bracing his forearm on the bed as he fell over him. Their lips brushed, but didn’t quite land. Instead, Geralt buried his face in Jaskier’s neck, breathing in deeply through his nose. 

“You like my cock inside you,” He murmured against Jaskier’s skin.

It was not a question, but Jaskier still felt compelled to answer.

“Yes, I-I really like it,” he confirmed shakily.

Geralt’s lips brushed against his ear.

“You want me to be a little rough,” He whispered hotly.

“Y-Yes,” Jaskier squeaked.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Geralt muttered.

“Okay, yeah, o-okay,” Jaskier mumbled nervously.

Then Geralt started moving. He thrust slowly for not more than five seconds before he was rutting against Jaskier like an animal, biting into his neck and growling. Wolf seemed the perfect name after all. His hips slammed hard into Jaskier’s ass and his fist gripped tightly at the sheets. Jaskier clung to him, his legs around his waist and one hand twisted in his snow-white hair. _**White** wolf,_ he thought deliriously as he was fucked hard and quick into the bed. 

“Y-You want me to touch you?” Geralt huffed.

“P-Please!” Jaskier cried.

The hand Geralt didn’t have clenched into the sheets went around Jaskier’s cock with the tiny space left between them. His slightly slick and very large, rough hand rubbed his cock and Jaskier felt the tension wind up inside him quickly. He tightened up as he reached the peak of the building pleasure, squeezing Geralt in every sense of the word and crying out as he released between them. 

He was dazed, but still felt Geralt spill hotly inside him. The witcher groaned lowly and his thrusts slowed to a stop. He caught his breath easily. Actually, Jaskier wasn’t sure he had even lost it. While he, on the other hand, was panting for a minute, trying to breathe properly. 

“Are you hurt, little flower?” Geralt questioned, rubbing Jaskier’s hip.

“Huh? Oh, no, I-I’m fine,” Jaskier grunted.

“Could you unhand my hair then?” Geralt muttered.

“Oh, s-sorry!” Jaskier exclaimed, quickly detangling his hand from the white locks, “Sorry, I-I was just in a daze.”

Geralt stood up straight, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe his seed off Jaskier. Jaskier stared at the ceiling in surprised silence. He sat up when Geralt was finished and watched the man do up his trousers. 

“So should I expect to see you again, white wolf?” Jaskier teased, grinning at him.

“You gonna let me fuck you that hard again?” Geralt asked bluntly.

“Um, yes?” Jaskier snorted, “Did I not moan loud enough for you?”

Geralt’s lips quirked up.

“You sang like a little songbird,” he mused.

“Then obviously yes,” Jaskier answered.

Geralt took his chin in his hand and tilted his head to look at his bite mark on Jaskier’s neck. His little smirk was possibly the most attractive thing Jaskier had ever seen.

“I will be back, little flower,” he confirmed.

_I was wrong. He **is** going to devour me. _Jaskier grinned widely.


End file.
